Worgen Warlord
by AwesomePossum15
Summary: In the forests of Duskwood, a young adventurer is infected with the Worgen curse. But this man will not become the mindless beast the other Duskwood Worgen are. Watch him gain companions, a reputation, and most importantly, incredible power. OC/harem, Grey/Dark OC, begins in Classic WoW
1. Chapter 1

In the dark forests of Duskwood, Thyzack Agthu ran for his life. Behind him, the only things he could hear were the grunts and snarls of the hulking beasts that darted in and out of the shadows as they gave chase. The sound of the struggle he'd left behind had stopped minutes ago, meaning his minion and only current ally, Foxtrot the imp, had been dispatched.

_Dammit! _he thought, _Where is that fel-damned road! _He was sure he should have reached it by now. He rounded a bend, only to be confronted by another dark figure lunging at him from the right, a wide maw full of razor sharp fangs gaping at him, preparing to clamp down on his neck.

He idly sent a fireball down its throat, knocking it back, as he pivoted and ran to the left, away from the two worgen behind it who joined the rest of the monstrous pack already at his back.

_I can't keep up like this, _he said to himself, huffing and puffing for air. He was an academic, dammit, not a jock! He didn't train for extensive physical activity. Not to mention the fact that cloth robes didn't exactly make running easy. However, his logical side told him, he should have been prepared for this possibility when he began his field research. He told that part of him to shut it, while silently vowing to become more physically fit if he made it out of this alive. Despite his life-or-death situation, his mind wandered to how he got into this in the first place.

* * *

"_Are you sure you want to leave?" Maginor Dumas asked. They were sitting in his office in the Wizard's Sanctum in the Mage Quarter. Various items littered the shelves and tables, most of which were some kind of magical junk that the master mage had acquired over the years and kept around for Light knows why. Probably to just confuse non-wizard visitors and make himself seem more magical and mysterious. The clutter caused the already tight space to become tiny._

_Zack almost couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. Almost. "Yes Maginor, I am sure. My time here has given me an education in magic second to none, no matter what anyone says about Dalaran," Good, Zack, just don't lay it on too thick "but I feel like I've learned as much theoretical knowledge and had enough practice with actually casting as one should before they get real experience. If I were to simply stay in the Sanctum studying, my progression would slow severely, if not halt altogether."_

_Dumas got up from where he was sitting and began to pace, looking up at Zack periodically as he talked. "Thyzack, when you came to us a few years ago from Lordaeron, we saw immediately that you had great potential. Leading your fellow orphans out of the city when the matrons panicked during the evacuation, throwing rudimentary fireballs at the undead that approached you, and managing to keep the survivors together and alive in the caravan of refugees from there to here was truly an impressive feat, especially for a 14 year old. I know that's the upteenth time I've said that, but it's truth has never diminished. In the time since, you've excelled at everything taught to you, and I'm willing to bet you picked up quite a few other talents in your free time. I planned on giving you a more permanent place here, and grooming you for higher positions in time. Your skills and intelligence would be invaluable to us. Are you absolutely sure you want to leave?" _

"_Yes, Maginor, I am __**sure**__." Zack said, being firm, but careful not to let his agitation show. He'd barely contained his twitch when Dumas had said his full first name._

_Dumas sighed. "You're planning on being an adventurer than?"_

"_Not quite. I had a few ideas that I wanted to work on, and there is little related information available to me here, so I'm planning on doing some research of my own."_

"_Oh?" Dumas's eyebrows had risen in surprise, "What kind of ideas?" _

_Zack gave him a sly smirk, "That's a secret. Don't worry though, if I'm successful, the fruits of my research shall help a great many people." Especially himself._

"_Hmph. Fair enough. When are you planning on leaving?"_

"_Tomorrow morning, before dawn."_

* * *

Zack was brought out of his reverie by a sudden motion from his left, and before he could react, a body had tackled him. Pain seared through, originating from his shoulder where the worgen's teeth tore into his flesh. He encased his hand in fire, and gouged its eyes out. It yelped and its teeth loosened, but Zack was already sending a thin stream of arcane energy through its eyeballs and into its brain in a gory reenactment of the Three Stooges. As the beast died, Zack rose to his knees from where it had knocked him down to meet the other charging worgen with the biggest torrent of magic he could muster. They stumbled, damaged and blinded. It was a good thing he hadn't lit them on fire, because he still wasn't able to prevent them from hitting him through sheer momentum. He put his foot on the leader's chest and kicked back to give himself more space, preparing two spells to slow them down, an ice spell to freeze their legs and a time warping spell. Hitting all five worgen, who had been stunned by the sudden shift in the hunt (prey didn't normally fight back, only ran), he then unleashed a torrent of spells, avoiding his warlock abilities as fire would weaken the ice spell and the worgen had a resistance to shadow, putting ice shards through both kneecaps of one, through the neck of another, and sending a particularly honed arcane bolt straight through the heart of a third. For the final two, who had been in the back and now charged forward over their fellows, he charged up a particularly concentrated ball of energy and sent it at them. It exploded between the worgen, sending them flying in opposite directions to hit trees with sickening crunches, leaving them sprawled on the ground and finishing off the wounded worgen with spikes in his knees.

Zack straightened, let out a deep, relieved breath, and looked at his handiwork. _Damn, I'm good._ Then he remembered the huge bite on his shoulder, and before he could think of how to treat it, blacked out from magical exhaustion.

* * *

**AN: So, this is only my second fic ever, and I hesitate to call it that because my first one, so far, is only one chapter that I published a week ago. What happened with the other story, Rise of the Dragon King, was that I didn't know where I wanted to go with it. Sure, I had ideas and scenes that I wanted to make happen, but those were all things pretty far down the line, and I had no plan on how to get to that point. This time though, I have a plan for what's going to happen for anywhere from the next five to ten chapters, on top of the things I want to happen way down the line. So this story will probably be updated much more often than my other one for a while. **

**If you're wondering about why he's both a mage and a warlock, to me it seems the main reason warlocks can't use mage abilities and vice versa is just balancing. If we were talking pure lore, I doubt it would be the same.**

**If you're wondering about the name, that's a bit of a secret, but you'll earn some brownie points if you can guess correctly.**

**I'm planning on making this a harem, and Zack will definitely NOT be a goodie-two-shoes character, and won't be above some underhanded tactics.**


	2. Chapter 2

Zack stirred groggily, attempting to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn't take him. As he came back to full consciousness, he noticed a few things. One, he was in a bed. Two, he was naked. Three, there was a warm, equally naked and definitely female body curled up next to him. So far, not a bad situation. He just wished he could remember how he got here.

He opened his eyes and looked around. The bed, bookshelves, a desk, and a wardrobe were the only furniture in the smallish wood floored room. It was, quite clearly, an apartment in Stormwind, though it wasn't his one in the Mage Quarter. He also noticed some clothes in a pile on the floor. He looked at the sleeping young woman next to him, and at seeing her face, it clicked. _Right, I'd approached Suzanne, one of the other students, after class and started chatting her up. She was putty in my hands after just a few minutes, and we went to her apartment. _He frowned for a second. Something didn't seem right about that. But then he shrugged the feeling off. After all, how else did he get there? He smirked, remembering the night he'd had with his attractive classmate. Lazily reaching over, he lightly traced a finger down the canyon of her breasts and up to circle a nipple. She moaned softly, arcing up into his touch for more contact, making his smirk deepen.

He got up, not wanting to wake her and debating what kind of fallout there would be during lessons if he simply left before she woke. Then he remembered it wouldn't matter, as he was leaving tomorrow to work on his private project. _Which reminds me, I have an appointment with the Maginor today, can't miss that. _He gathered up his clothes and headed to her bathroom to use the toilet and make himself presentable enough to make is to his own quarters for a real shower. He took care of his business, and looked in the mirror to fix his appearance a little. He had to stoop some, as he was too tall (passing six feet by a few inches) to stand straight and fully appear in the mirror. Looking back at him with dark blue eyes was a familiar face, with angular features and high cheek bones. Black hair, a little mussed after just waking up, went down to his shoulders, with slightly pointed ears that belied his half-elf heritage peeking out. Deciding he looked acceptable, he left the bathroom to find Suzanne sitting up in bed holding the covers to her chest, which was a shame as it blocked his view of what would have been a beautiful image of sunlight streaming through the window to highlight her shapely profile. Oh well.

Without missing a beat he changed his plan and strode over to her. "Good morning." he said, sitting down on the side of the bed. She gave him a shy smile, blushing as he looked over her. "Good morning," she said back "... I had a wonderful time last night."

He gave her smile, and leaned in to kiss her. She leaned back, he followed, keeping contact while one hand roamed over the covers and gave a squeeze. She gave a satisfied sound, which turned into almost a whimper when he pulled away.

"I have an appointment with Maginor Dumas today, so I have to go."

"You're leaving town soon, aren't you?" She wouldn't look at him.

He turned toward her, and cocked his head, examining her. She seemed so innocent, and suddenly he remembered that last night had been her first time. How'd he forget something that had been a big deal just a few hours ago? More importantly, how to play this?

"Yes. I'm planning to leave tomorrow." he responded softly, putting a sad look on his face.

She turned to him, determined. "I'll be here when you get back then." The determined look was undermined by the rising blush on her face.

Zack smirked. "I'll have to come back sooner then," he said, heading towards the door. And maybe he would, now that he thought about it. Suzanne, though naive, was a decently gifted mage, smart, attractive, and over all just good company.

Stepping into the hallway and closing the door, he was again hit by that feeling of wrongness he'd had when he woke. He paused to examine it, but before he could figure it out, a noise down the hall drew his attention.

He looked, and time seemed to freeze as he tried to process what he was looking out.

A black mass, coming up to his chest, with bright yellow points- eyes- peeking out. At him. Fur, sharp teeth. Strong looking legs, bent as if ready to pounce. Wisps of black smoke (mist? An aura?) surrounded it.

A worg. A big one.

In the middle of Stormwind.

_What the fuck?_

All this was processed in less than a second. After all, that was all the time he had before the shadowy worg pounced and latched onto his throat.

* * *

Zack jerked awake from where he was napping, leaning against hard wood. Blinked. _What the hell kind of dream was that? _He groaned, disoriented from his sudden wake up. _What's going on again? _He looked around, and finally noticed he was in a cart, surrounded by other children huddled together under blankets trying to stay warm in the cold rain. Right. Prince Arthas, undead, invasion of Lordaeron. Evacuation. The orphans had all been piled into two carts and sent out of the city with a large amount of other civilians when our own prince brought an army of undead to the city walls. They were headed to the ocean, away from the fighting, where every ship that could be found would be waiting for refugees to take to Stormwind. Unless of course, the Scourge got there first. Even worse, they were close to the tail of the caravan, and they were moving at a snails pace behind hundreds of other people.

He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Zack looked at the drivers of his cart, Matrons Johnson and Smith. "Matron Smith, how far to the ocean?" It was only after asking that he'd noticed they'd been having a hurried, whispered conversation. They jerked when he spoke.

The middle aged woman he'd addressed tried to put a calming smile on her clearly scared face. "We'll be there soon Thyzack, just try to get some more sleep."

He scowled, at both the use of his real name and the fact that they clearly were trying to keep secrets from him because they didn't want to "worry the children." As if rumors of people turning into zombies out of nowhere with no warning wasn't doing far worse than actually knowing the truth, even if it was that bad. Really, they thought they could keep why they were evacuating a secret from them when they'd been hearing horror stories from places like Andorhal and Stratholme for months, and had been able to hear the screams from the front lines on the way out of the city? Idiots.

He was pulled from his brooding thoughts by a piercing scream. He stood up in the cart to find the source.

A hundred yards behind them, undead had popped out of nowhere and swarmed a cart. He couldn't see much do to the rain and the distance, but he got the gist of what was happening to those people, and even he wasn't looking, the screams would have told him. Their escort of Lordaeron soldiers and knights had moved to drive back the undead, but he knew they had no chance of saving anyone in that cart in time. They were only trying to clear the way for the few groups of people that would otherwise be cut off from the group.

While watching the attack, he and everyone else hadn't been paying attention to the front. A new set of screams changed that quickly. As Zack turned to see the space two hundred yards ahead of them suddenly swarming with twice as many ghouls then there were behind them, the thought crossed his mind that this had been an incredibly bad idea. Hundreds of people strewn about a long road in a straight line, all taking the same most direct route to the closest escape point. The mindless undead had probably been sent here fel-knows how long ago, waiting for the signal to begin their ambush. The smaller group had attacked the less populated portion first to pull the guards away, while the larger group headed to the, now defenseless, more compact parts of the caravan. He couldn't even say they'd been out-maneuvered: that required them to have done at least a little maneuvering in the first place. Now a massacre was taking place, and when they were all dead, they would rise again to kill more people and help take their own city.

As if some signal had been given, the matrons took one look at the children in the cart and in the one behind them (driven by it's owner who had volunteered to let the orphans use it) and left the cart, running to left to disappear in the woods.

"Mama Smith, Mama Johnson!" cried one of the younger children, standing up to climb out of the cart to chase them.

"NO!" Zack yelled in his most commanding voice, pulling the kid back into his seat. "Stay in the cart!"

"But-" he was cut off by piercing, agonizing screams coming from the direction the women had run off to, screams that ended as quickly as they began. There were Scourge in the woods to pick off runners.

_Shit, _Zack thought, _what can we do?_

The horses were panicking, and he quickly moved to grab the reins. He looked forward at the undead that had finished with their initial target and were spreading out to the other groups. They were on a hill, and in the distance, he could see a tower. A lighthouse. The finish line. There was only one option.

"We have to go forward!" Zack yelled, hoping to catch the attention of those nearby and praying they would follow. The more carts and people that tried to push through the undead, the more likely they were to succeed and survive.

"But there's zom-"

"I noticed!"

Zack spurred on the horses. They went, but he doubted anyone else was following. He had to show them they had a chance. So he revealed his little secret.

The orphans of the city had, mostly, been taken care of, but only just. If they wanted anything more than the clothes on their back and just enough food on the table, they had to steal. Zack, like all of them, had honed skills from years of experience, though he could never really do exceptionally well as a rogue because of his larger than average size. However, his skills came in handy when a delegation from the mage city of Dalaran had arrived at the city and left their carriage open and unattended for about five seconds.

Zack had been interested in magic since the matrons had told him his mother was an elf, who were known for their magic. Apparently, she had stumbled out of the wilderness to a nearby town, clutching a bundle of rags to her chest and only saying one thing: Thyzack Agthu. The locals couldn't speak Thalassian, but they could recognise it, and knew that the phrase was definitely not from the high elf language, so assumed it was the name of the bundle she carried, which turned out to be a baby.. The woman had died, assumingly from childbirth as he'd been a newborn.

Anyway, he was able to use the three books he'd nicked from the mages had to teach himself a little magic. Two were far too advanced, but the third had been more for beginners, or close enough that he could decipher it and reverse engineer some basics. He'd had to do all this in secret, because not only did the matrons frown on stealing (duh), but they also frowned on magic use other than the Light, and encouraged those magically inclined to speak to the priests.

His mediocre talent with the arcane, that he had spent endless hours in secret practicing, would come in handy now.

As the horses sped downhill and the undead nearby took notice, Zack threw out all he had at those that approached. He rained fire on them, as he figured rot and decay would be weaker to fire than his other options. However, for every one he took down, four others replaced it, and he could only shoot so fast.

_Dammit! I need __**more**__. I need more __**POWER.**_ Suddenly he felt his body fill with energy, more than he'd ever felt before. His spells came out faster, and each blast caused an explosion that destroyed anything within ten yards. _How did-_ he began thinking, until he noticed there was something else different about his spells. The fire was tinged green.

He almost faltered at the realization that he was now using the corrupting fel-flames. Almost. Then he decided that it would be best to worry about it later.

He heard sounds behind him and to the sides, cheers and yells and screams, horse hooves and wheels on pavement. Some, at least, had followed, but he didn't dare look back to see how many. He kept casting, throwing spells left and right while urging the horses forward. The ghouls that stood in their way were crushed, unable to halt their momentum.

Then they broke through the line that had separated them from the rest of the caravan. They'd been attacked higher up too, but the guards were doing a slightly better job here. Even so, he could tell that they wouldn't last long.

"Keep going! One big push to the town walls and the docks!" Zack yelled, and was answered by a mighty roar from however many people he had behind him. It sounded like much more than he thought at first.

Evidently, the idea had merit, as as they passed he saw a man on horseback-a marshal- giving orders to follow them to anyone that would listen. Soon, the number of carts and people in their charge swelled, and knights on horseback took the lead and flanked them on all sides. The undead came at them, but even though some people were killed, none of the Scourge could really put a dent in the mob of fast moving wood, metal, horses, and people.

Zack was coming down from a huge adrenaline high. They would make it. They were almost at the town walls. Then he noticed something to his right, running alongside the cart. Something big, black, and hairy. As soon as he looked at it, it pivoted and leaped 90 degrees, right at him. The worg from his strange dream caught him by the throat, and it's momentum carried them off into the dirt while the rest of the mob simply rode past.

* * *

Zack stumbled. His mind was a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and memories. _What the hell is going on?!_ Something very bad was happening to him, he just had to figure out what.

He looked around to get his bearings. He was in the Cathedral of Light this time. Why would he be here? The last time he came here was to-

"Hello! What can I... Oh, it's you. What do you want Agthu?"

-strongarm Brother Joshua into teaching him the mind magics shadow priests could reportedly use.

When orphans grew up and needed to make a living, there weren't many trades available to pick from. You either became an unskilled laborer, joined the army, became a priest, or if you were a good enough rogue, were picked up by SI:17 (or became a criminal, but most wouldn't call that a "trade"). Joshua, a young man a couple years older than him who'd been in the other orphan cart during the escape from Lordaeron, had ended up a priest. His false smile had fallen as soon as he'd seen who he was speaking with. They didn't get along much as kids.

"Listen smart ass, I need some help. There's something really bad going on, and I need a hand so I don't become worg-food." Zack cut straight to the case. He didn't like Joshua, but getting eaten twice was already two time too many.

Joshua wasn't cooperating though. He'd gone tense, and looked scared. "How did you know that?" He whispered fiercely.

"What? What are you-," Then Zack realized Joshua wasn't looking at him. Close but not really. A thought struck him and he waved his hand in Joshua's face to test it. When he didn't react, he tried to give him a little push.

His hand passed through him.

"Okay, so since this is a memory, I can't change it. No help. Got it." Joshua must have been responding to what he would have said if he'd been following the memory. Zack had uncovered some dirt and used it to blackmail Joshua into teaching him everything he knew about shadow magic (which, as it turned out, was considerably more than an "upstanding" priest like him should).

Ignoring him for now, he began to think about his situation, and decided that the key would be figuring out what the last thing that happened was. The most recent memory was the one with Suzanne, the day before he left for-

Duskwood! Once it clicked, it was so obvious. He'd gone to Duskwood for his research, planning to use the local worgen problem for his experiments. On the first night, he'd been attacked by said worgen while setting up camp. There were rumors that worgen bites turned people into worgen. He'd been bitten. This seemed like a weird fever dream, but it was far too real for that. Connecting some dots, he decided that this must be part of the conversion process: the worg, the embodiment of whatever magical illness caused this epidemic, was devouring his identity.

Now, what to do about it?

He couldn't be the first person to realize you should fight the giant word that thirsts for your blood, so the solution would be more complex than simply killing it- if he could kill it.

He suddenly became aware of the world around him once more, and just in time. The worg was loping toward him through the cathedral, priests and church-goers paying it no mind. Frustrated at his lack of time, Zack decided brute force was his only option at the moment and began gathering his energy to attack.

Long story short, after destroying most of the furniture and half of the support beams (which strangely enough he could touch and effect), it hadn't worked.

* * *

Zack jerked up. This time he'd been slumped over his work desk in his spartan apartment, working late into the night. _Dammit! I need to think of a real solution! _The only thing that seemed to work was some mind magic that he was able to cast out, but by the time he had gotten to using it, the worg was on him, and he'd resorted to trying to punch it in the snout. No one needs to be told how _that _went.

As he decided that it was the best hope he had in a situation no one had gotten out of before, his eyes fell on the work that he'd fallen asleep over in this memory. He grimaced at it.

It was his project, or rather the point it was at several months being bitten. He'd theorised that it was possible to make a connection similar to the ones warlocks had with demons with creatures from Azeroth- that is, to control them. It was not the same as the companionship many hunters build with animals to help them hunt, but a master-servant relationship. Warlocks were also able to block demons from entering areas with certain rituals. The application of this would be the ability to keep kobolds out of mines, pests out of fields, gnolls out of town, and so on and so forth. Or at least, that would be the application he'd tell everyone else about.

Unfortunately, his research hadn't gotten him very far. That was why he'd gone to Brother Joshua a month or two after this memory (he fell asleep working a lot, so couldn't be exactly sure when this was). The mind magics shadow priest could use wa-

His brain stopped when his eyes landed on a particular magical formula. That… how could he have not… This was it! This formula was spot on, only it needed knowledge from the shadow branch of magic- knowledge he hadn't had until he'd thrown this out as a failure. Quickly writing in a few more glyphs, he felt confident that this was the formula he needed. And he'd thought it would take months, if not years to complete it! He couldn't wait to…

_Oh, right. Worgen. _He had to fix his immediate problem before he got to testing the form-

Another dot was connected as he looked at the formula again. Now, he burst out laughing.

"YES! Talk about killing two birds with one stone. Come at me you hairy son of a bitch!"

Committing the new rune arrangement to memory, he began to get ready to cast. The spell would be very similar to summoning and binding a demon. Concentrate, and shape your magic into the runic formula. The magic would become visible to any watching, a purple glow in odd shapes, indecipherable to any without training in the art. Very little of the normal spell actually had to do with summoning, though. Most was focused on binding the demon so that it would be under the caster's control. This was why demon summoning was so dangerous: one had to have every part of the formula memorized and shaped perfectly, or else you could get a different demon than what you're looking for, and it probably won't be very nice. For this though, he simply cut out the small summoning part, and focused on the more complex binding. He had it down perfectly from countless hours of training. He was ready for the worg.

A good thing too, because suddenly it was there, popping out of the shadows in the corner. As it pounced, Zack cast forth his magic, and a bright purple chain of energy struck the wolf and held it in mid-air for a moment, before it fell the floor, struggling against his will.

For several minutes, a battle of will power raged. They were nearly even, as the wolf had been feeding off his will ever since it arrived. Eventually though, one won out.

"I am your Master." Thyzack informed it. "Bow."

The worg lowered itself to the ground and lowered it's head, and suddenly, the memory was gone, and Zack's eyes- his real eyes- opened.

**AN: Anyone want to know what a heart attack feels like? Accidentally deleting a story as you were about to post it and _almost _forgetting where the undo button was. Thankfully, I found it.**


End file.
